


Between the Lines

by GoatEnthusiast



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoatEnthusiast/pseuds/GoatEnthusiast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bad date sets Davy to reflecting...and Peter is there to listen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines

Peter sat curled up in the armchair with his well-thumbed copy of _Charlotte's Web;_ he had just gotten to the chapter where the Arables were taking Wilbur the pig to the county fair. He was home alone: Davy was on a date, and Micky had talked Mike into seeing _Gold Diggers of 1935_ at a revival house in Van Nuys.The sound of the door opening startled him out of his reading. He glanced at his watch: it was just past eleven.

Davy strode in, looking dapper in his pink-and-green striped shirt. The heels of his new pointed-toed boots clicked on the floor. He smiled brightly at Peter. “Hey, how's it going, mate?”

“Great – it's nice just having a quiet night with a good book. How was your date with...” Peter paused, as if deep in thought. “Michelle?”

Davy grinned and sat down. “I know, it's hard keeping track of all the names. _I_ can barely remember sometimes.Yeah, it was Michelle.” His smile faded. “The date was OK; nothing special. We went for Italian at Papa Lorenzo's, then dancing at the Cotton Candy Club; the usual. After a while, it felt like things were sort of going nowhere, so I made up some excuse about having an early rehearsal tomorrow and took Michelle home. She didn't seem to mind very much.”

“I noticed you came back pretty early for a Friday night”, Peter said.

Davy was silent for a moment. “You know, Pete, I just don't _get_ it. There are _so many_ girls; I swear there's a new one every bloody week. Every time, I think, 'Oh, _she's_ going to be the one.' But it  never, _ever_ works out.”

Peter said nothing; he looked at Davy with sympathy. Another expression flickered over his face, but it was gone before Davy could read it.

“It's always the same: 'Oh, Davy, you have such _beautiful_ brown eyes.' And then, 'I _love_ your accent. It's _so_ cute.' I feel like I'm in a movie or something, only it's the same role every time. 'David Jones, Professional Englishman.' I never get to just be _meself_.” He stared off into the distance for a moment, musing. “I know...I'm very lucky to be...”, he smiled modestly, “nice-looking. I'm sure a lot of chaps wish they could say that. But I get so _bloody_ tired of just being...handsome. That's all any of these girls ever notice about me; that, and me accent.”

“You _are_ really good-looking, Davy”, Peter replied matter-of-factly.

“Thanks...” Then Davy gazed at Peter thoughtfully. “Why couldn't it be the way things are with _you_ and me? You know, I can _always_ talk to you, about whatever pops into me head. We can have a laugh together, _or_ we can be serious. I never feel like I have to put on an act with _you_.” Davy grinned again. “If you were a girl, Peter, I bet we'd have _lots_ of fun on a date...”

All of a sudden, the copy of _Charlotte's Web_ fell to the f loor; Peter bent to pick it up. Were it not for that, Davy would almost certainly have noticed the crimson flush on his cheeks.


End file.
